


you make me feel (like I am whole again)

by dogeared



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Episode: s03e06 Motel California, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-10
Updated: 2013-07-10
Packaged: 2017-12-18 09:20:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/878211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogeared/pseuds/dogeared
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The morning after, continued. Spoilers for 3x06, Motel California.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you make me feel (like I am whole again)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Little While Longer](https://archiveofourown.org/works/876660) by [sheafrotherdon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheafrotherdon/pseuds/sheafrotherdon). 



> Follows directly after sheafrotherdon's A Little While Longer, so read that first. Many thanks to Cate for permission and beta!

Jennifer's still there the third time Derek wakes up. He's surprised, though he must have been aware of her on some level—the steady thump of her heartbeat, the warmth of her next to him, thrumming and alive. She opens her eyes when he stirs, blinks at him and says, voice a little scratchy, "Okay?" He nods at her, leans in to nuzzle against her temple, because for this moment, at least, he does feel okay. Better, for the rest, and for her sure presence. Safe.

He's almost afraid that the fragile bubble of whatever this is, whatever they're doing, will burst if he gets up, but it doesn't, somehow. She sits up against the wall, tucking the sheet under her arms and her hair behind her ear, and she doesn't look like she's planning on going anywhere. The sun's streaming full through the windows, now, decorating the floor with squares of gold light that are warm underfoot when Derek pads to the kitchen. 

He makes her toast with peanut butter, maybe the most domestic thing he's done since Laura was still alive, and it makes something ache in his chest. But he's aware of Jennifer's regard, interested and intent, and he flushes and lets himself be drawn back to her before he can sink into memories and regret.

"Naked breakfast," she giggles, and he finds himself grinning back at her helplessly. "I hope you don't make a habit of that, could be dangerous." Derek can think of plenty things in his life that are a whole lot more dangerous, but he leans close and says into the space between them, "Special occasions only." She eats, plate balanced on her knees, and he swallows down two big glasses of water by the time she's finished one, catches her smiling slyly at him.

When she stands up, letting the sheet fall away and holding out her hand for his, all he can do is take it and follow. 

She tows him to the bathroom, finally letting go of his hand to turn on the shower and unfasten the clip in her hair. It tumbles loose over her shoulders, and Derek feels caught by how lovely she is, how human and whole.

Her body's slippery and warm in the water, her eyelashes dark and lips swollen, fingers gentle against his skin, washing off whatever's left of the blood and gore. "Been wanting to do this since the first time I saw you," she murmurs. He's hard again, and maybe he should be embarrassed about it, about needing this too much, but Jennifer bumps her knuckles against his cock once, twice, a deliberate tease, and when he presses close and opens his mouth to hers, she nips at his lip, curls her tongue against his teeth.

They fall back into his bed still damp, and Derek chases water on her skin, the chlorine tang of it and the salt underneath. She shivers, goosebumps springing up everywhere, and he strokes down her arms and catches her fingers with his, covers her breasts with his hands and feels her nipples pebble against his palms. He settles himself between her legs, settles his hands at her waist and looks up at her face—her cheeks are pink, and she's biting her lip, and he waits for her to nod, wide-eyed, before he slides his hands down so he can hold her open and lick into her. She's so slick and hot, and it makes him feel wild, makes the urge to howl tug against his breastbone.

She tastes like the ocean, and her hands anchor him, tangling in his hair and holding him close as she moves in slow swells against him, making her own wild sounds. She gasps as she comes, breathy and aching, reaches for his hand and squeezes it tight, and he holds on, breathes against her, doesn't want to let go; can't help grabbing onto this one good thing for as long as it will last.


End file.
